An Unnamed Miracle
by Electric Light Shadow Boxer
Summary: The third in the Unnamed series. The Miracle Job reawakens old feelings and doubts for Nate. Can he work through them and can Eliot forgive him? Warning: explicit M/M action. You have been warned.


TITLE- An Unnamed Miracle

AUTHOR: Electric Light Shadowboxer

RATING: NC17

CATEGORY: Slash

PAIRING: Nate/Eliot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor am I associated with Leverage. No copyright infringement intended. This little piece of insanity was written for fun, not profit. I make no money. Literally.

SUMMARY: The third in the Unnamed series. The Miracle Job reawakens old feelings and doubts for Nate. Can he work through them and can Eliot forgive him?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Takes place after The Miracle Job and contains slight spoilers. Note that this series follows the order of episodes on the season 1 DVD's instead of actual broadcast order. **Contains explicit M/M action. Don't read if you're offended.**

He decided to stand back, be quiet, and observe for a while. He's been trying to decide just where the hell this one went wrong, at which point was it that this had turned from just another job into something that was pushing Nate's buttons. It had seemed so simple. Again, he'd thought they were going to get a break. Finally, a job with no kids in sight, dead or otherwise.

That day two weeks ago had started really good. Sophie had backed off, still angry about Nate not remembering the details of their history and Nate was relaxed for the first time in over a month. He'd started drinking less and was regaining some of his color.

Nathan had been in a really good mood. They'd gone out the night before, as a team, to watch Sophie in The Death of a Salesman, and while that part had been horrible (seriously, he'd wanted to pluck out his eyes) the rest of the evening had been wonderful. Leaving the theater separately, he and Nate had met up later, and had gone for a walk in the warm night air, just enjoying each other's company.

Nate had been smiling, laughing, and for a while his eyes had lightened; Eliot could see just a peek of the man he used to be. It had been such a good time that it more than made up for the torture of watching Sophie 'act', though, he'd never tell Nate that.

He supposed it could've gone wrong when Maggie called; after all, that's what started this mess. But, that wasn't it. Yes, Nathan had been concerned but he was still in a relatively good mood.

Maybe it was after he'd visited the priest in the hospital. Eliot knew that hospitals could be a trigger for him. And yes, after that visit he had detected the scent of alcohol on Nate but it was okay. It wasn't any more than he usually drank. In fact, at this point in the job he'd been pretty pleased with himself. While Nate had been visiting his friend, Eliot had Hardison dig up any and all information they could about the priest. It had been him that organized the others into finding out what was going on, and it was him that had convinced the team there was a job there. Now he was cursing himself.

It could have been when things started spiraling out of control, when so many people started showing up to see the 'miracle'. But that wasn't it either. It was after that little chat Nate and the priest had had in the confessional. He hadn't been there, he didn't know what had gone on but Sophie had told him that Nathan had sat in there for a long time after that. That was when the change had taken place. And he'd never know what was said. He wasn't Catholic but he knew enough to know that what was said in that booth stayed between the priest and the repentant.

It was after that when Nathan became overzealous, slap-happy, drunk, and underneath it all, withdrawn. Oh the plan had been brilliant, scary as hell and full out crazy, but brilliant.

Since then things had only gone downhill. It had been a week and a half since they'd been together. A week and a half since they'd really talked. A week and a fucking half of Nathan pushing him away and he didn't know what to do about it because he didn't know what was wrong. It made him want to hit something. He tried real hard not to let that something be Nate.

So now he stood on the roof of their offices and watched as Nate sat there, back up against the ventilation system, a bottle of Jack in his hand. Eliot winced. If Nate was down to drinking Jack it was serious. He usually preferred Jameson. If he was drinking Jack it meant that he'd gone through all the Jameson and couldn't stop long enough to make a run for more.

Eliot wasn't a religious man, not like his family had been, but he was offering up a prayer now. He'd gotten over cursing God when he'd accepted his feelings for Nate. So he prayed because he was fucking scared. For the first time in years, since he'd left home and not gone back, he was in a relationship with someone he cared about. This wasn't something to pass the time, and it wasn't a quick lay; it was something he was trying desperately to hold on to, even though Nate seemed intent on destroying himself bit by bit. He had to stop it. Somehow this had to get better.

Despite the cool night air he was sweating, emotion boiling in his gut and overflowing into his chest. He took a deep breath and pushed the hair out of his face before launching himself off the door and approaching the seated man. He watched as Nathan looked up at him, eyes blurry, tracking just off to the left of where he was standing. Eliot sighed, ran a hand over his mouth and down his chin, and put his back against the cool metal and slid down so he was sitting next to the other man. He was silent for a moment, looking out over the LA skyline.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing up here, Nate?"

Nathan took another swig from the bottle, eyes looking out at the lights blanketing the city. "I needed some peace . . . some time to think."

Eliot winced at the slurring of his words. It had been a long time since Nate had been this drunk. He nodded his head and brought his knees up, clasping his arms around them. "What have you been thinking about?"

Nathan shook his head, trying to bring the bottle up but sloshing some over his hand onto his shirt. He frowned down at it like he didn't understand where it had come from. Then, instead of answering, he pushed himself up and started staggering toward the door.

Eliot cursed and stood, quickly catching up and shadowing the other man to make sure he didn't faceplant on the gravel covering the roof. "Whoa there, Sparky. Let's get you home and in bed."

Nathan turned and grinned at him. "We don't have to wait until we get home."

"What?"

Nathan stepped into him, stumbling slightly, and caught Eliot's lips between his teeth, sucking and licking before pulling away and swaying a little.

The sudden change of direction confused Eliot for a moment. He wanted to say no, he wanted to be angry at being shut out, but the mere thought of Nathan made his cock twitch. He was tired of being pushed away. He didn't know what had brought on the change. Maybe he'd just needed some time to process some things, but he was grateful to be offered this closeness again. He could feel the smile stretch his face and he took Nathan's hand, careful to lead him down the stairs so he didn't stumble and fall.

He led him into the Leverage suite and into Nate's private office where a black leather couch sat. Eliot started to lead Nathan over to the couch, but Nate broke free of his grasp and pushed him down onto the sofa. Before Eliot could recover from his shock enough to be sure he wasn't going to react violently to being shoved around, Nate was knelt between his legs and had his zipper open.

He watched, almost stunned, as Nathan worked his pants down to reveal him. It wasn't often that Nathan was the instigator, and that was fine with Eliot; he liked being in control, he liked making the other man squirm for him. But he found that this side of Nate was turning him on as well.

Eliot watched as Nate used his hand to work him before he finally closed his mouth over the head. Eliot caught his breath as the moist heat encircled him, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive head. "Oh, fuck, Nate."

Nathan reached down and cupped his balls, working them lightly with his fingers. Suddenly Nathan plunged his head down until he was fully encasing Eliot in his mouth.

Eliot dug his nails into the leather of the sofa as he felt himself hit the back of the other man's throat. As good as it felt he made himself open his eyes and stare at the man between his legs. They'd been working on it but Nathan hadn't had much success in getting him fully in because his gag reflex kept kicking in. Now he was going down so hard and so fast Eliot knew it had to be rough on the other man's throat.

"Nate . . . God, Nate, be careful. You're going to hurt yourself."

Now Eliot watched, or tried to watch, as Nathan drew his head back, sucking and tongue cradling him, before plunging back down the length of him. He could feel the friction of Nathan's stubbled chin and cheeks as he paid attention to the base of him. He tried to watch, finding the sight of Nathan going down on him incredibly erotic, but as Nate came up he lightly ran his teeth up the shaft. Eliot's eyes closed and he arched himself up off the couch, fucking into Nathan's mouth. He hit the back of Nathan's throat and this time Nathan growled. Eliot almost lost it, would have lost it but Nathan pulled off him.

He watched, somewhat mesmerized by the sight of the strand of saliva that ran from his cock to Nathan's mouth. Nathan pushed himself up and tried to capture Eliot's lips in his, but he was still clumsy with alcohol and overshot, banging his lip against Eliot's teeth. Eliot pulled back and caught Nathan's face in his hands, searching his eyes for whatever it was that had come over him.

Nathan licked his lips and when he spoke his voice was rough. "Fuck me, Eliot."

Eliot still held Nathan's face in his hands. He was still painfully erect but he was starting to think they needed to take this little party home. He leaned down and kissed Nathan, paying special attention where his teeth had caught his lip. "I can't here. There's nothing we can use for lube. Let's go home and we'll finish up there."

Nathan pulled away from Eliot's hands and started fumbling with his own buckle. "No. I want you to fuck me now."

Eliot sighed and started stuffing himself back into his pants, careful with the oversensitive flesh. "You're drunk, Nate, you don't know what you're asking."

Nathan started fighting with his hands, trying to get at his pants. "Yes, yes I do. Please, Eliot, just fuck me."

Eliot grabbed hold of Nate's wrists and forced his hands away. He dipped his head and made sure he caught Nathan's eye. "No, Nate. I'll hurt you without lube."

Nathan was nodding his head. "I want you to. Please, Eliot. I need you to."

Eliot narrowed his eyes, searching the other man's face. His eyes widened and he pushed the other man back until he toppled over, standing up and pacing to the door, running his hands through his hair to get it out of his face. "You do, don't you? You want me to hurt you. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

Nathan opened his mouth but Eliot interrupted him, a snarl on his face. "I won't do it. I won't let you take the only decent thing in your life and turn it into a way to hurt yourself. I won't let you do it to yourself and I certainly won't let you do it to me."

Nathan made it back up onto his knees, anger causing the flush over his cheeks to deepen. "What's the problem? You've been sulking because I wouldn't have sex with you, and now that I want to, you balk? Man up!"

Eliot stepped forward, hand raised in the air before he stopped himself. He looked down at the man on the floor and shook his head, upper lip curled, before changing direction and grabbing Nathan's car keys from the desk and walking out.

"Eliot!"

Eliot kept going. He could hear Nathan calling his name until he was out of the offices.

* * *

Eliot sat outside the church, watching as people walked by, some going inside, others ignoring the place entirely. He'd watched from a discrete distance away as the priest had gone in, studying the man.

He fingered the cut on his upper lip, letting the small twinge of pain keep him grounded. After he'd left Nate last night he'd been so angry. He was used to carrying an amount of anger with him all the time. No matter what he did, he just couldn't get rid of it. But last night he'd been almost to the point of carelessness because of his anger. He'd found the first fight he could and busted some heads. After he'd worked the anger out, he'd gone home and put some ice on his lip, and tried to get some rest. But the bed had felt so large and empty without Nathan tucked into his side. He even missed his drunken snoring. So he'd made up his mind. He was going to fight for Nathan, and to do that he needed help.

He sighed and stared at the church, making sure he had part of himself walled up before he entered the building.

Paul was actually exiting the office when he literally ran into the man coming in. "Excuse me; I wasn't watching where I was going." He looked at the man's face and smiled. "You're Nate's friend. I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name."

Eliot shook the proffered hand and nodded. "Eliot." He cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable. "I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this, but I was hoping that maybe I could talk to you for a minute."

Father Paul smiled and nodded, stepping aside and motioning for Eliot to go into the office. "Sure. I have some time."

Eliot walked into the office and stood awkwardly inside, taking in the books and art.

"Please, have a seat." Father Paul gestured to one of the chairs and sat down in the other one. "Now, what can I do for you, Eliot?"

Eliot sat forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and licked his lips. He wasn't entirely comfortable with what he was about to do, but he was at a loss. It was either this or walk away. "I need your help with Nate."

Paul sat forward frown creasing his face. "Has something happened?"

"Depends on what you mean." Eliot sighed and stood, pacing the small office. He took a deep breath and turned to face the priest. "Look I've got to tell you, I'm not Catholic and I don't put much stock in religion, but I get that you've got some history with Nate. I'm hoping maybe you can get through to him."

Paul sat back in his seat and sighed. "One thing about Nathan Ford is that his head is harder than concrete." He studied the other man before continuing. "You're obviously uncomfortable asking for my help. Something must have happened to make you seek me out." He smiled, trying to put the other man at ease. "What's happened, Eliot?"

Eliot sighed and shook his head. "Look, I can't tell you. If Nate wants to tell you, that's up to him." He licked his lips, tongue catching the faint copper taste of blood from the cut. "Something happened while we were here. You and Nate talked in the confessional and since then he's been self-destructing just a little faster. Last night . . ." He trailed off and stared out the window. When he turned back to the priest his eyes weren't entirely friendly. "As much as I want to make you tell me what you discussed, I ain't going to hit a priest so I need you to talk to him."

Paul felt his eyebrows climb toward his hairline but decided to ignore the little niggle of fear in his stomach. Something told him he could trust this man, this criminal. He stared at him for a few minutes, something prickling at the back of his mind. He watched the body language and caught the emotion in his eyes that the other man was trying to hide. He was afraid and desperate. Paul felt his eyes widen in shock as he realized the other emotion the thief was trying to quell. He sat forward and gestured at the chair. "Eliot, please, sit down a moment." He waited until the other man was seated. "You care for Nathan very much." He waited a moment to see how the other man was going to react. When he received nothing but stony silence, he continued on. "You and Nate are more than just coworkers or friends aren't you? I see it in your eyes."

Eliot just stared at the other man, refusing to answer. He knew the church's position on homosexuality, but he wasn't going to lie or be ashamed of who he was. He'd had enough of that over the years. He just hoped Father Paul would be open-minded enough to not turn on his friend because of this.

Paul nodded, still a little stunned at the revelation. This Nathan had changed so much from the person he used to know. When Sam had died it had destroyed that man. He gave a heavy sigh at the pain that Nate had endured. He'd been worried for a long time about Nate hitting rock bottom. From the fear in this man's eyes that time may have finally come. "Is he in danger of hurting himself?"

Eliot shot him a look before shaking his head. "You mean directly? No, I don't think so. He'll wait until the booze does it for him or until a mark catches onto him and takes him out. I don't think he's tried anything since our first job together."

Father Paul frowned and sat forward. "What happened?"

Eliot stared at the window a long time before he swallowed and turned his attention to the priest. "He tried to blow himself up. I tried to confront him about it later but he just brushed it off, said I was being ridiculous." He laughed a little bitterly. "He had plenty of time to make it out of the building before the bomb went off. We'd made it out and he just stayed in there. He didn't set the bomb, and he didn't go in there looking to kill himself, but I think when the opportunity presented itself he decided to take it. I didn't know it until I'd recovered a little from the initial blast. I found him just inside, out cold. He came to in the hospital. He was the only one really hurt. The rest of us had scrapes and bruises, but he had a concussion and some burns."

Paul swallowed, troubled by the news. "And since then?"

Eliot sighed and shook his head. "He's been better. I mean, his ideas are crazy, but they always work out. It's like the revenge he's getting on these scumbags gives him a reason to go on. But he's still drinking too much. He's still self-destructing. Just in a passive way."

Paul sat forward and nodded. "I think you're right. Maybe I should talk to him. But I've got to tell you he's not likely to listen to me anymore than he is to you." He was quiet a moment, staring at his hands. "When Sam died, Nate was inconsolable. He loved that little boy more than anything, and his death broke him. Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken this long for him to hit the bottom." He turned his attention to the other man. "I agree that Nate needs help, but I can't promise he'll listen to me."

Eliot shook his head. "I just . . . I need some help here. I can't do this myself and I'm not ready to give up on him."

Paul licked his lips and nodded at Eliot's cut lip. "Did he do that to you last night?"

Eliot's eyebrows climbed his forehead and he gestured to his lip. "This? No. It's not me he's trying to hurt." He took a deep breath and brought up something he felt he needed to get out of the way. "When I came in here to talk to you, I didn't plan on you finding out about Nate and me, so before I let you around him I need to know how you feel about this."

Paul sat back in his chair and nodded. "The church's position on this is clear." He could see the other man's face darken. He held up a hand to forestall the other man. "However, I believe that God's plan cannot be entirely known to us, and that his teaching is one of love and acceptance. As his servant, I can do no less. Neither of you have to fear judgment from me."

Eliot nodded, something tight in his chest loosening. "In that case, do you have plans for tonight?"

* * *

It was Hardison who found Nate passed out on the couch in his office. The smell of bourbon was cloying. He thought about waking the other man but he seemed to be doing okay, and he really didn't have anything for the older man. He sighed and went back into his office. He logged on and pulled up some files on his computer as he chewed on his lip.

He really liked Nate. Things were never dull or boring when he was around. It kind of hurt him to see him messing himself up like this, but he didn't know how to fix it. He knew his Nana would tell him to pray for the devils to leave that man alone, but he didn't think prayer was going to do it. He was looking up information on alcoholism when Parker came barging into his office.

"Nate's passed out on his couch again." She hopped up so she was sitting on the edge of his desk, and looked at his computer. "Is this for a case?"

Hardison shook his head and finished scrolling through the information about the local treatment center. "Nah, I was looking for information .... just, you know."

Parker snorted and shook her head. "Nate won't go to rehab. He's in complete denial." She bounced her heels against his desk. "Where's Eliot?"

Hardison sat back in his chair and watched as she pulled at the wire to his monitor, before sitting up and taking it away from her. "Don't do that. And why would I know where he is? It's not like he tells me his schedule."

Parker smiled a little and shook her head. "He's just usually around . .." She trailed off, the mischievous smile lighting up her eyes. "Anyway, I think there's something wrong with my plant. Will you come take a look at it?" She grabbed him by the hand and started pulling him out of his office.

Alec went willingly but protested just the same. "You want me to look at your plant? What do I know about plants? I work with computers."

Sophie came into the main office just in time to see Parker pull Hardison into her office, and smiled a bit. She really did hope those two got together. Hardison was a sweet kid and the relationship would do Parker some good.

She made her way back to Nate's office, hoping he would be in and they could talk. It seemed like they hardly got any time alone working with this team.

She paused when she saw him splayed out on the couch, clothes disheveled and the flush still riding his cheeks. She tapped on the door a moment before shaking her head and walking over to stoop next to the couch. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing the bangs from his forehead. "Oh, Nate. What am I going to do with you?"

She stared at him for a few more minutes, heart heavy in her chest. She desperately wanted to help him, but he wouldn't let her. She sighed and placed her hand on his chest. "Nate. Nate, wake up."

He stirred a little, moaned, and then rolled over so his back was facing her. She sighed and shook him harder. "Nate! Wake up."

"Eliot?" His voice was muffled by the cushions. He pushed his face out of the back of the couch and pawed ineffectually at the saliva drying crusty on the side of his face. "That you?"

Sophie tried not to be offended that he could confuse the two of them, and helped him sit up. "Did you spend the night here?"

Nathan looked around, still confused, trying to get his bearings. "What?"

Sophie stood and sighed. "I'll go make some coffee."

Nathan sat on the couch, glad that the blinds were at least partially closed to the bright LA sun. He wiped at his face and blinked trying to make his vision clear. He pawed at his pockets but couldn't find his phone. He frowned and leaned back against the cushions.

The last he could remember he'd been sitting in his office waiting for the others to go home and thinking about the things Paul had said. He couldn't stop thinking about the person he used to be and the person he had become. He couldn't stop the guilt from crushing his chest at the thought of his culpability in all that he'd lost. He must've passed out on the couch and Eliot had decided to leave him there.

He couldn't really blame the other man. He'd been treating him like shit lately. He'd warned him. He'd told Eliot that he didn't have anything to give. Eliot was finding that out now. The worst thing was that he wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of losing the other man.

He cared about Eliot, as much as he could, and that scared the shit out of him. It scared him and it made him feel guilty as hell.

Seeing Paul, being in the church again, it had brought it all back. The dreams he'd had and the love he'd had for God and his church. The decision to leave the seminary had been a joint one. The church had felt that he wasn't suited to the life and he had agreed with them. It didn't mean he didn't believe in what the church stood for, in its teachings and doctrines. Paul had reminded him of just how far he'd fallen. He snorted. Paul didn't know the half of it.

At first he hadn't cared. The church had been far from his mind. Ever since he'd lost Sam he'd renounced the church, he'd renounced God, and he'd renounced faith in everything and everyone. But Paul always had a way of getting under his skin. It was just one of the reasons he'd refused to see him these last couple of years.

It was too damn early to be thinking this hard. He didn't have enough insulation for the feelings stirring in his chest. Nathan stood and made his way over to his desk, rummaging in his drawer for a bottle. He frowned and pulled out his other drawer, frowning harder.

"You left the last of the Jack up on the roof last night."

Nathan looked up to see Eliot leaning against the doorframe. "The roof?" He stepped out from the behind the desk toward the door.

Eliot put his hand out against Nathan's chest, stopping him from going any further.

Nate looked down at him, mouth open, ready to argue but frowned and reached up to take Eliot's face. "What happened to your lip?"

Eliot jerked out of Nathan's grasp and threw a look over his shoulder to make sure no one was in sight. Then he nodded into the office and waited for Nathan to back up so he could close the door behind them.

Nathan sat down on the couch and licked his lips. He could tell the way Eliot moved, the way energy seemed to radiate off of him and tension thrummed in the muscles of his arms that he was mad. He watched as Eliot perched on the edge of his desk. "What happened, Eliot?"

Eliot stared at him, hard, eyes boring into the other man. Yes, he was scared, and he was hurting, but that didn't mean he wasn't mad. He was mad enough right now that he could walk right out and never come back. He had to fight so hard for the control to not do something that he would later regret. He narrowed his eyes. He already knew the answer to his next question but asked anyway. "How much do you remember about last night?"

Nathan looked up at the other man and wanted to be angry, but he couldn't; something tight was curled up in his gut. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I don't. I . . ." He trailed off, swallowed. "What happened?"

Eliot felt something deflate at the look of confusion in Nate's face, in the tint of fear in his eyes. He'd been ready for Nathan's indignation, his anger. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay mad at the other man then. As it was, he felt something in his chest tighten painfully. He sighed and wiped at his face, aware that they were liable to be interrupted at any minute. "We need to talk later."

He stood up off the desk and dug in his jeans pocket for Nathan's keys. He held them a moment, staring, wrestling with everything that wanted to come spilling out of him before tossing them to the other man. "I have some errands I need to run. We're having a guest for dinner tonight at seven at my place." He stood up and made his way to the door. "Nate . . ." He trailed off unsure of what to say before shrugging and starting out the door.

Nathan swallowed. "Eliot . . ." He waited until the other man turned back around to look at him. He took a deep breath. "Are you breaking up with me?" He could feel a slight grin on his face but knew it didn't look happy. He couldn't quite make it out to be the joke he'd meant it to be.

Eliot tapped the doorframe, studying the other man before giving a sad smile of his own. "I hope not." Then he turned and walked out of the offices.

* * *

It was six thirty when Nathan finally found his way into Eliot's apartment. He paused inside the door, the smell of food hitting his stomach like a ton of bricks. He grimaced and walked the rest of the way into the open room without pulling off his sunglasses.

Eliot gave a last stir with his wooden spoon and turned the heat down before covering the pan and turning to get a look at the other man. Nathan stumbled into the counter before taking a seat at the bar. Eliot placed both hands on the bar and looked down at his lover. "You going to feel like eating anything?"

Nathan wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "How rude will it be if I don't join you and your guest for dinner?"

Eliot turned and filled a glass with cold water from the fridge, setting it down in front of Nate. "Very. Drink this."

Nathan licked his lips and brought the glass to his lips, taking small sips to keep from upsetting his stomach. He watched as Eliot turned back to whatever it was that he was sautéing, admiring the way his shoulders moved under his shirt. "Who's coming to dinner anyway?"

Eliot took the eggplant and onions off the eye and dumped it into a pot simmering to his left. "An old friend."

"Yeah?" Nathan stood and looked at what Eliot was cooking. "I may not know much about cooking but I know that won't be done by seven."

Eliot took the pot off the stove and poured the eggplant and sauce over the noodles and cheese. He then put the dish into the oven and set the timer. "We're not actually eating until later."

Just then the doorbell rang and Eliot stepped around Nathan to get the door. Nathan followed him around the bar and stopped in the living room to watch Eliot open the door.

Eliot opened the door and shook hands with the priest. "Paul, thanks for coming."

Nathan stood in the living room looking from Eliot to Paul. "Paul?" He looked back to Eliot, confusion and something else flashing quickly over his face, darkening his eyes.

Eliot licked his lips as he recognized the look on Nathan's face. It was fear and shame. Fear that the priest would find out about them, and shame of what they were.

Eliot felt a laugh bubbling up inside of him. He'd been so stupid not to see this. He tamped it down and nodded his head a moment, trying to control the hurt, the rage, building inside.

Father Paul looked between them, trying to read the situation as emotions flew across both their faces. He took a deep breath and tried to smooth over the tension creeping up to drowning levels. "Eliot, Nate, let's sit down a minute and talk."

Nathan glared at Eliot. "You invited Paul! What were you thinking!"

Paul held up his hands and started toward Nathan, trying to keep his voice level, calm. "Nate, he's just concerned. We both are. Let's not make a big deal out of this, okay?"

Nathan tried to go around Paul but the other man refused to step out of his way. "What is this, Eliot? Is this your idea of an intervention? Is that what this is?"

Eliot glared at Nathan, cheeks red with anger and hurt. "Dinner's in the oven." He turned and walked out the door.

* * *

Nathan turned away from the door and headed toward the hall closet, where he knew he had a bottle of Jameson stashed. He pulled the bottle out of the bag in the back and came up, taking a swig from the bottle.

Paul came up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. "Nathan, let's sit down."

Nathan pulled out of his grasp and made his way over to the couch, slumping down in the soft cushions, the neck of the green bottle clutched in his left hand. "What do you want, Paul?"

Paul sighed and shook his head, sitting down in one of the armchairs on the other side of the coffee table. "Well, I was invited to dinner but I wanted to talk to you." He paused, watching as his old friend took another swig from the bottle. "You're not looking so good, my friend. I'm worried about you. Eliot is worried about you."

Nathan glared at his friend. "So this is an intervention for poor drunk Nate? Well screw you." His eyes dropped to the collar around his friend's neck before he upended the bottle again. It was one of those nights he just couldn't seem to get numb enough.

Paul leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "This is not about the drinking, Nate." He stopped and shrugged. "Well, not only about the drinking. Although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned about the amount you're drinking. I was hoping that after all this time . . ." He trailed off, not wanting to mention Sam. His friend seemed to be too raw right now as it was.

Nathan growled and leaned forward, pointing his index finger at the priest's chest. "All this time? Don't you dare go there, Paul. Don't you dare."

Paul held up his hands and bowed his head in acknowledgment. They sat in silence for a little while, Paul allowing Nathan to calm down a little before he continued. "He didn't say so, but I believe Eliot loves you very much."

Nathan blinked and swallowed, trying to think of something to say, willing himself to deny it.

Paul saw the panic fill his friend's eyes and he sighed. "Nate, I know about you and Eliot. He came to see me today. He is very concerned for you."

Nathan swallowed another swig and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Son of a bitch has a big mouth." He started laughing and Paul winced at the hysterical, manic, edge it had to it. "I should know, huh?"

Paul sighed and shook his head. "Nate . . ."

Nathan held up his hand opened his arms wide. "So now you know." He laughed again. "Not only is Nathan Ford now a drunk and a thief, he's also gay! What do you know? It's a trifecta! Is that why you're here, Paul, to straighten me out and tell me I'm going to hell? Cause if it is then I don't need to hear it."

Paul looked across at his friend, face serious, eyes sad. "No. You don't. I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I am concerned because you are self-destructing before our very eyes."

Nate was shaking his head as he tried to pull himself up out of the too soft couch that was swallowing him whole.

"Nate, just hear me out." Paul stood and came around the coffee table, moving the whiskey bottle as he did. He perched on the table and stilled Nathan's movements. "You've already lost Maggie. Don't lose Eliot too. Don't push him away the way you've pushed everyone else away." He waited until he caught the other man's eye. "He told me about what happened last night."

Nathan shook his head a snarl on his face. "What are you talking about?"

Paul sat kept his hand on Nathan's arm, studying his face. "You don't remember." It was more a statement than question. "See what I mean? You're doing things you're not even aware of and it's hurting those around you."

Nathan sat forward, trying to focus on the man in front of him. "What are you talking about, Paul. What happened last night? Eliot wouldn't tell me. Please, I need to know."

Paul sighed and sat back. He was right, he needed to know. "You wanted Eliot to use sex last night as a way of hurting you."

Nathan shook his head, brows drawn down over his eyes. "What? No."

"I need you to think about this, Nate. What does Eliot mean to you? Do you care for him at all? Because if you do, you need to think long and hard about changing things, or he's not going to stick around for this."

Nathan shook his head, confusion and fear fighting for domination. "I don't . . ." He looked at Paul. "How do I fix this? I can't . . . right now I can't . . ." He shook his head, angry at his inability to express himself. He finally looked up at the priest, tears in his eyes. "I care about him, Paul. I don't think it's love, I don't think I'm capable of love. Not now. But I care for him as much as I'm able." A sob broke free. "And I feel guilty as hell for that."

He wiped angrily at his face. Great, now he was a crying drunk. "How can you sit here and tell me to try and save this relationship when the very thing you cling to tells you that it's wrong?"

Paul sighed and leaned forward again, trying to catch the other man's eye. "Are you going to remember this in the morning, Nate? Because I don't want to have to tell you this again. I cling to God, not the church. Does what you have with Eliot feel wrong?"

Nathan took a deep breath and tried to think through the alcohol haze. "I don't know. No. It feels good, it feels right. But then I feel guilty because . . ." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. "I've always been taught that it's wrong. How do I reconcile that?"

Paul shook his head. "It sounds to me like you already know the answer, Nate. Just stop overanalyzing it. Rely on what you know. Not what you've been told."

Nathan was silent, lost in thought. Paul let him alone and went to check the stove. He smelled something burning. He pulled the dish out of the oven and set it on the stovetop. When he came back in Nathan was crying again. He went to the man's side and put an arm around his shoulders, rocking him a little.

"I've screwed this up." He tried to catch his breath. "God, Paul, I've already screwed this up. How am I going to fix this? He's so angry and I've hurt him so bad." He shook his head. "I told him before we got into this, I told him that I didn't have anything to give."

Paul prayed for guidance. "I can't tell you that it's going to be easy. Or even that it's going to be salvageable. I wish I could, but I don't know. All you can do is try. It's going to take work, and I don't know Eliot well enough to be able to say how he's going to react to this."

Nathan was quiet, lost in thought. "Thank you, Paul. I . . .I need some time to myself, to think."

Paul frowned and pulled back looking at the other man. "Are you sure? I don't mind staying. In fact I would feel better if I stayed with you until Eliot comes back."

Nathan shook his head. "Really, Paul, I'll be fine. I just need some time alone."

Paul watched his friend a moment before finally nodding his head. "Okay. I want you to give me a call though. Tomorrow. I want to hear from you." He stood and grabbed the Jameson. "I'll just put this back before I leave."

He put the bottle in the kitchen and checked the stove and oven to make sure it was off. He walked to the door and stopped. "I mean it, Nate. You call me. Anytime. If you change your mind and decide you want company, you have my cell phone."

Nathan nodded but didn't move from his spot on the couch. "Yeah, thanks, Paul, I will."

Paul studied him a moment longer before nodding and finally letting himself out of the apartment.

* * *

Nathan sat on the couch waiting. He tried not to worry, tried not to be afraid that Eliot had just left and wasn't coming back. He sat for hours, not moving. Thinking about what Paul had said and what he felt. Eliot had come to mean so much to him. When the world was shifting around him so that he couldn't get his bearings, Eliot was always there, steady as a rock.

More than that, he cared about him; maybe he even loved him. He just didn't know anymore. All he knew was that the thought of Eliot leaving him felt like it was ripping him in two. He wanted to feel his strong arms around him, wanted to feel the solid surety of him at his back. He wanted to feel his calloused hands caress down his body. He wanted Eliot to make sense of the world again.

By twelve he was crying again, sure that Eliot wasn't coming back. By one he was curled up on the sofa, numb, trying to block out the pounding of his heart. By two he was completely motionless, trying to decide how he would end it. Because he would. Eliot had been the only good thing in his life. It wasn't that he couldn't go on without him. He could, he just wouldn't. There was no use.

At three Eliot came home.

Eliot closed the door behind him, eyes going automatically to Nathan curled up on the couch. At first he thought the older man was asleep but then he saw the light reflecting on the older man's eyes. His face was red, puffy, from crying. Eliot sighed and went to the couch. He moved Nathan's legs and sat down, cradling them in his lap. "Nate?"

Nathan looked at him blinking. "Eliot? You're home?"

Eliot cocked his head at the question but nodded. "Yeah, I'm back. Are you okay?"

Nathan shook his head and sat up, wrapping himself around the other man. "No. No I'm not." He reached up and grabbed Eliot's face, pulling him into a kiss, lips and tongue desperate. When the other man didn't respond Nathan pulled back, more tears leaking from his eyes. "Please, Eliot. I need you. Please don't shut me out."

"You mean like you've been shutting me out?" He stared at the other man hard but when he saw his face crumple and eyes well up he cursed and pulled the other man into his arms, kissing him, rough and bruising.

He pulled Nathan up and led him to the bedroom. He was still mad, really, really mad. But he still cared for him, still loved him. And the fighting tonight hadn't been able to take his mind off of him. He pushed Nathan down on the bed and started shedding his clothes, watching as Nate did the same.

He positioned a couple of pillows under his hips to provide a better angle for deeper penetration and picked Nate's right leg up over his shoulder, pushing the left so it was up against the pillows under his hips.

He reached in the bedside table for lube and a condom. He spread a generous amount of lube on his fingers and pried Nathan open, pushing a finger in past the tight ring of muscle.

Nathan pushed his hips down, angling to get more of Eliot's finger in. Eliot turned his hand curling his finger up to brush against the prostate. Nathan moaned and his muscles clenched.

Eliot added a second finger and then a third, continuing to work him and make sure he was ready. He continued to work him with his hand, watching as his cock jumped when he hit the prostate. He leaned over and kissed Nathan, tongue maneuvering hungrily over his teeth and lips, mirroring what his fingers were doing below.

He released his mouth to come down on Nathan's neck and bit him hard, knowing he'd leave a mark.

Nathan gasped and grabbed onto Eliot's shoulder with his left hand, his right he had grasped onto the headboard. "Please, Eliot, please, now."

Eliot pulled back and rolled the condom onto his cock, lubing himself up so that he wouldn't hurt the other man. He was so ready. It had been so long since he'd been with Nathan. He positioned himself, teasing Nathan's entrance with the head of his cock.

Nathan was practically whimpering. "Please, oh please, Eliot. I need you."

Eliot pushed past the taut muscle, not pausing to let Nathan get used to him; he pushed in until he was fully encased. He was panting, fighting the urge to move, enjoying the feeling of heat and pressure as Nathan closed in around him.

Below him Nathan was whimpering, trying to move but the position Eliot had him in held him fast. He took his hand and started working Nathan's cock, running his thumb over the head, drawing a cry from the man beneath him.

With a slow, deliberate movement he drew himself out with a twist of his hips until only his head remained encased in Nathan's heat. Then, again with deliberate slowness, fighting the instinctual need within his body, he pushed back in, biting his lip with trying to keep himself from bucking in.

Beneath him Nathan was breathing hard, trying his best to move even though Eliot had him pinned. He was a burning hardness, filling him, penetrating him, violating him. His could feel his eyes roll back in his head as Eliot pulled out of him again with that peculiar twist of his hips.

He could feel the pressure building within him, starting at some deep place. The thought that no one had ever touched him there but Eliot made him gasp, and he felt the pressure increasing inside.

Eliot grasped his cock, hard, thumb pressing into the bottom of his cock, keeping him from coming. "Uh-uh. You'll come when I'm ready."

He continued to move at his agonizingly slow pace. Filling Nathan up and then emptying him out until Nathan could literally not keep still, until he was crying out for release. Then his own needs took over and he started slamming into the man pinned beneath him. For a few moments there was only the sound of grunts and the slapping of flesh until Eliot cried out and plunged in one more time, emptying himself into Nathan's tight warmth.

He pumped Nathan's cock a few times and then felt the warm spray of Nathan's release against his own stomach as Nathan cried out beneath him. He felt the muscles of Nathan's ass clamp down around him, hard, making him cry out again.

Eliot collapsed on top of the other man, capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss, Nathan's lips catching on the cut on his own lip and stinging. Eliot finally let go of Nathan's mouth and buried his head into his neck, still encased within the man below him.

He felt Nathan's arms come up and run over his back as he still lay gasping. Finally he got the energy to roll off the other man and take him up in his arms, body satiated but mind still going a mile a minute.

Cradled in his arms Nathan shifted, pushing himself back so he was up against Eliot's chest. He could feel semen drying stickily on his stomach but couldn't be bothered to clean himself up. He didn't want to leave the safety of the other man's arms.

Eliot could still feel the tension in Nathan's shoulders. He could feel the unasked questions but was content with the silence, not ready, not knowing, what to say.

They lay in silence for some time, each enjoying the exhaustion that was taking over their bodies, still lost in their own thoughts. Finally Nathan shifted a bit and ran his hand over Eliot's arm and hand. "Does this mean we're okay?"

Eliot was quiet for a while, resisting the quiet peace he'd found, even if just for a moment, in the other man's body. Finally he sighed. "I don't know."

*The End*

SONG PLAYLIST:

Closer: NIN

Come in Closer: Blue October

Crushingly Close: NIN and Garbage

Come Closer Together: NIN and The Beatles


End file.
